


Douce Nuit (Sainte Nuit)

by nekojita



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AFTG Winter Exchange 2018, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, a sequel to it you could say, andrew and his love of sweets, andrew's dealing with the fact that he has two gorgeous boyfriends, he gets away with a lot, jean and andrew let him get away with a lot, mention of betsy dobson, neil is such a little shit, set in the 'move forward' au, so yes a bit of denial but otherwise doing okay, very vague references to their pasts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 17:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16978578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekojita/pseuds/nekojita
Summary: Christmas has never been Andrew's favorite time of year, not after all the years in the foster-care system (what he dealt with during those times). Yet now he's in a new country and starting a new life with not only one but two lovers - Neil and Jean - who both know about having painful memories, who are both determined to move on to happier times.Who are determined to bring a bit of joy (and more) into Andrew's life.*******An AFTG holiday gift fic for @badbavarois on tumblr





	Douce Nuit (Sainte Nuit)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [badbavarois](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badbavarois/gifts).



> So, @badbavarois on tumblr asked for anything jeandreil, so I thought perhaps this would be acceptable? I hope so, I tried for something a little sweet and happy. I hope you like it.

*******

Andrew accepted the mug of mulled wine which a smiling Neil handed him as he leaned against the back of the couch in the apartment that… that his two _boyfriends_ shared. He hid a slight grimace at the thought, still growing used to thinking _that_ way about Neil and Jean despite having moved to a foreign country for the two young men and Bee’s insistence that he put a name to the whole thing.

He was fine with not having a name to it, with spending time with two attractive young men merely because he had nothing better to do with his days off because they were interesting and somewhat amusing and good at respecting his boundaries. That was all. Just boredom and hormones.

It was a logical career choice, him moving to Marseille; he was largely autonomous, weekly reports to Paris aside, and could set his own schedule and-

“What do you think, Drew?” Neil called out as he motioned to where Jean was positioning a small, artificial Christmas tree. “Here or closer to the window?”

Which explained why he was over at Neil and Jean’s apartment as they decorated for Christmas, Bee’s smug voice whispered in Andrew’s head. Dammit, now he regretted sending off her Christmas present early, he thought as he had a long swallow of the warm, spiced wine. “There’s fine,” he said through clenched teeth, which made Neil give him a curious look while Jean muttered about why did it matter, where the damn tree was as long as it was out of the way.

Neil gave the tall bastard a hurt look which made Jean sigh then fuss over the object (Jean almost always buckled quickly to those types of look from the manipulative redhead), and Andrew finished his wine while they began to decorate the tree with the sparse box of ornaments; he’d noticed in the past week that Neil took the whole holiday season seriously even though he wasn’t religious.

No, Neil wasn’t religious, but he could be rather stubborn about doing ‘every day’ things from time to time, as if desperate to bring a sense of normalcy into their lives – the former Ravens and unwanted foster child, the criminals and cop who were so broken that something like going on a _date_ or decorating a tree was _special_.

“Do you want to do the star?” Jean asked as he held out the delicate object to Andrew, who’d been lost in his thoughts as his boyfriends had wrapped the tree in a string of lights and garland, then hung a few sparkling orbs from its branches.

He told himself that it was all the mulled wine which made him feel warm, even though he’d only had one mug so far, and not the fact that Jean and Neil continued to include him in things, to not be JeanandNeil but JeanandNeilandAndrew. They didn’t push too hard (the whole _boundaries_ thing), but unless they were working or Andrew was tired and wanted to be alone, then they were at his apartment or invited him over here except for when they were out in the city.

“I’ll leave it to a tall bastard like you,” Andrew said as he pushed away from the couch so he could go help himself to more mulled wine, which earned a bright laugh from Neil; the redhead followed him into the small kitchen a moment later.

“Hmm, so you like it?” Neil inquired while he sidled next to Andrew. “Jean does a good job, yes?” He snatched the refilled mug away for a quick sip before he handed it back, which earned him a displeased look. “What?”

“One of these days I’m going to arrest you for flagrant thievery,” Andrew warned as he held his mug close.

“Sure you will,” Neil taunted with a slight smile. “Then you’ll be stuck all alone with Jean.”

The smartass had a point, Andrew mused while he drank his wine and tugged Neil closer with his free hand. “I’ll arrest him, too,” he said after a few seconds.

“What for?”

“For encouraging your many bad habits.” Andrew refused to be moved by Neil’s endearing laughter at the remark (or attempt to regain the mug for another sip). “Get your own drink.”

“Mmm, but I like yours,” Neil murmured with his eyes downcast as he sidled even closer. “Won’t you share?”

Instead of answering, Andrew took a sip of the warm, spiced drink then slowly leaned in, which allowed Neil enough time to pull away if he wanted – the smug bastard merely smiled and bridged the space between them but was mindful to not touch Andrew otherwise just yet while they kissed.

A drop of wine slipped free when Andrew parted his lips, but Neil caught the rest and hummed in delight as he swallowed it, then lapped at the bit which had escaped before he resumed the kiss. Andrew had just set the mug aside so he could catch at his boyfriend’s chin when Jean finally showed up and cleared his throat. “You spoil the rotten brat too much.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Neil insisted as he pulled away enough to glare at the tall bastard, which meant that Andrew could finish his wine while they argued. “And what took you so long?”

“You left the extension cord all tangled, I told you to wrap it properly last year but you never listen to me.” Jean glared at Neil who merely shrugged off the criticism, which prompted the older man to mutter something that sounded like ‘careless imps’ in French.

“Are we going now?” Neil asked, his expression eager as he stepped away from Andrew to approach Jean, his hands quick to slide around Jean’s waist as he tilted his head back to gaze up at the taller man; Neil made a precocious picture with that pose, which explained the bemused smile on Jean’s face as he leaned down to press a kiss against Neil’s forehead.

“In a few minutes, let me drink some wine,” Jean insisted before he fetched two mugs of the warm beverage – one for him and Neil – then poured the last of it in Andrew’s mug.

Andrew had a few sips before he asked about the rest of their plans for the evening. “Back to the market?” Neil had already dragged them off to a couple of the Christmas markets in Marseille and nearby so he could buy presents for his family in England, outings which had been largely made bearable by the mulled wine sold on site and Neil’s cheerful mood since Andrew wasn’t a fan of either the holidays or crowds.

“Something like that,” Neil told him with a mysterious grin which was mostly hidden behind the rim of a mug bearing the Union Jack – an ongoing ‘joke’ with Jean. “I think you’ll like this one.” Both he and Jean usually spoke English with Andrew when they were alone, though his French had gotten rather good in the last few months.

There was an equally mysterious smile on Jean’s face as well, which didn’t bode well for Andrew; he finished his wine then snatched at Neil’s mug to empty it as well (it wasn’t as if the troublemaker drank much in the first place) and ignored the pout sent his way with ease (the hardest thing to adjust to with living in France wasn’t the language barrier or the tiny coffees or lack of ice cubes, but one Neil Josten and the ease of which he breached Andrew’s defenses); once the wine was gone, they left the small yet comfortable apartment where Andrew spent most of his time anymore, only to end up in his car.

That was a bit of a surprise since if they were staying in Marseille, they were usually on foot or took public transportation – Andrew was almost back to what he’d weighed during his days at PSU because of all the walking. Still, once in the Mercedes-AMG A 45, Andrew gave a pointed look to Jean, who held up his phone with the directions already programmed in for their destination.

“You’ll like it, we promise,” Neil insisted from his spot in the back seat.

Andrew gave the more troublesome of his boyfriends a blank look via the rearview mirror before he put the hatchback in ‘drive’ and headed to what was apparently Saint-Rémy-de-Provence, which was about an hour away. He wasn’t opposed to the trip since he didn’t have too many excuses for long drives anymore (unless it was for work), not like when he’d been back in Baltimore and had little to do during his days off but get in his car and go on random road trips.

Being involved with two people tended to keep him busy.

He didn’t mind being busy anymore, even if Bee took delight in teasing him about keeping their sessions ‘PG-13’ for the sake of her poor heart.

The time went by quickly with Neil and Jean asking him what his family was up to, as well as Bee and Renee, then arguing about what they’d do for the holiday dinner – where they’d get food since none of them felt like cooking. Andrew was willing to let Neil and Jean do the brunt of talking, aware that they didn’t hold it against him if he gave short answers or gestures, that they didn’t take his reticence personally.

There were so many reasons why the three of them shouldn’t work… yet the reasons _why_ they did outnumbered the negative

Soon enough, Jean directed him to a place to park, and it seemed that he’d been dragged off to another holiday market after all. Yet there was a pleased grin on Neil’s face as he held out his right hand in a clear invitation for Andrew to take it, which he did after a moment’s hesitation.

“Did we really have to come all this way for you to get another trinket for your uncle Stuart?” he asked as Jean helped to clear a way through the crowd.

“It’s not for him,” Neil explained as the aroma of something sweet registered on Andrew’s senses. “This is a specialty market, you see, where you go to buy things for the Thirteen Desserts. We thought for some reason you might like it.”

Andrew had heard a little about the tradition in the past few weeks, about having a number of desserts for Christmas to match Jesus and his disciples (or something like that, he tended to just focus on the ‘dessert’ part and not the religious aspect). “So you’re saying that all those booths ahead are selling desserts?”

Neil’s smile widened until his pale blue eyes sparkled and a slight dimple appeared in his left cheek; a couple of people stared at him in fascination and interest, yet his attention was focused solely on Andrew. “Basically, and tonight’s our treat to you, Drew.”

Something squeezed tight in Andrew’s chest at that proclamation, at the evident joy on Neil’s gorgeous face, at the slight yet pleased smile Jean sent over his shoulder as well. For so many years, Christmas had been nothing but a disappointment for Andrew if not an outright nightmare, had been just another day when he’d been neglected or abused. Nicky and Bee and Renee had attempted to change that, had tried dinners or stupid traditions or insisted that he was part of a family, but it had never rung true.

All Neil and Jean did was invite him along to things and make sure he had enough alcohol and/or caffeine, to chide him to dress warm (even if Marseille wasn’t as cold as Baltimore) and inflict a few holiday markets on him before going back to a quiet apartment where it was just the three of them and he got to listen to Jean complain about Neil’s crazy British relatives while Neil cajoled Andrew into siding with him on their takeout order (and then on to much more pleasurable moments).

He’d never thought to belong anywhere, let alone a foreign country with not one but _two_ lovers… but he allowed himself to be tugged forward and, after a quiet ‘yes?’, given a quick kiss by Neil before Jean grabbed his free hand and started talking about how he’d probably like the Bugnes, the Calisson biscuits and the Bûche de Noël best. As soon as Andrew caught sight of the chocolate buttercream frosting covered sponge cake logs, he knew he’d be taking home one (or more) of them, but he was determined to spend time wandering the market to sample the various biscuits, doughnuts and almond paste treats until he was full (he’d leave the fruit to Neil and skip the hard nougat), and perhaps send a picture or two to Bee, Renee and Nicky to get them to leave him alone (yes, he was in the ‘holiday spirit’, so to speak – the holiday spirit involving more mulled wine and lots of sugar for once, of which he approved).

Neil, dwarfed by the familiar overlarge bomber coat and wool hat tugged over most of his auburn curls, had an anxious expression on his face as Andrew surveyed a booth of the yule log cakes. “So… it’s good, yes?”

Andrew accepted a sample from the vendor and almost hummed in pleasure as the delicious buttercream frosting melted on his tongue. “Hope you brought a lot of money tonight,” he said, uncaring if the two had to rob a bank to pay for his gift.

Neil’s anxiousness melted into delight while Jean shook his head. “You like it.” He grinned up at the obnoxiously tall Jean. “He likes it.”

“Of course he does, that thing is half sugar,” Jean said with an elegant sneer.

“Hush, like you won’t be happy come some stupid world cup game,” Neil said with a flop of his left hand.

“Or you when it’s time for the Olympics and you’re cheering for the British team to win the Exy gold. The _British_ team.” Jean glared at their redhead who had an unrepentant expression on his face. “What have I done to be cursed with your existence?”

“You’re so very, very lucky,” Neil stated with pride. “Right, Andrew?”

“I’m siding with whoever buys me the most sweets,” Andrew declared, which made Neil stare at him with the hurt expression that Andrew refused to give into (for once) and Jean grin as he reached for his wallet.

“Fine, we’re going to find something even better than this booth sells,” a determined Neil insisted as he tugged on Andrew’s sleeve while Jean paid for a large yule log. “Let’s go!”

Andrew decided that moving to France just _might_ have been one of his better ideas.

****** 

**Author's Note:**

> *******  
> At the least, a little more from the Qui N’avance Pas, Recule verse/AU. I do want to write more of these boys someday. 
> 
> Uhm... look for the last chapter of Raven's Partner in... a week or two? It's about halfway done, maybe more.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated.


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